Om Mani Padmé Hum, 'The No Loss of Will Remix'
by Imadra Blue
Summary: One thing that never happened to Padmé Amidala: Padmé lives to raise her children. Her continued presence will alter her children's, her husband's, and even the Jedi's destiny. Gen.


**Character(s):** Padmé, Luke, Leia, Obi-Wan  
**Disclaimer:** _Star Wars_ and all its characters are property of Lucasfilm Ltd. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**Warnings:** AU  
**Written for:** Remix Redux VI. Title and Author of original story: "Five Things That Never Happened to Luke Skywalker" (iv), by Rynne. It's a lovely collection of AU snapshots that I adored remixing, and I recommend reading it even if you pass this remix up.  
**Notes:** Many thanks to Jediem and Noctaval for their wonderful and helpful beta reading. The title of this fic is a reference to the Tibetan Buddhist mantra of the same name.

...

When Leia fell from the cerulean sirgan tree, Padmé jumped to her feet. Cold washed through her being, leaving behind a sickening ache. She ran, though she did not recall commanding her legs to move.

"Leia!" Luke jumped down from the tree and landed cat-footed. Just as his father used to do. "Leia!"

Padmé could not make any noise; her daughter's name caught in her throat. Luke reached Leia before Padmé could. He knelt beside his twin sister and clutched her shoulders.

"Leia, wake up!"

"Luke? Luke, what happened?" Padmé asked. How could her daughter, who was no less agile than her brother, have fallen?

Luke looked up at Padmé—with his father's eyes—though he did not let go of Leia's shoulders. Leia's little body resembled a crumpled leaf, her white dress torn, her braids loose and scattered across the blue grass. Blood trickled out of a gash in her forehead, glittering under the sunlight. Padmé's hands trembled.

"I—we were climbing," Luke said. "I dared her to get to the top faster than me, but I guess she slipped and hit her head on a branch when she fell." He rubbed his eyes, looking even younger than six. "And now she won't wake up."

"Oh, Luke." Padmé knelt beside Leia. She hesitated for a moment before pressing two fingers to Leia's wrist. Life pulsed beneath her fingertips. Padmé let out a slow breath as she examined the gash on Leia's forehead. It looked deep, but not deadly.

Padmé twisted around and wrapped her arms around Luke. She breathed in the scent of his tousled blond hair. Touching him seemed to make the ache inside of her fade.

Luke sniffled against her neck for a moment, then wriggled free. He sat down beside Leia's head. Padmé almost smiled to see it. Her children had a deeper connection to each other than any two beings she had ever seen. It seemed to grow every day, every time they touched.

"She'll wake up soon, won't she?" Luke held his hand above Leia's head. Wisps of her hair fluttered in the wind—at least Padmé hoped it was wind.

"She'll be fine." Padmé drew Leia into her arms and cradled her. Leia seemed so light, so fragile—as did Luke. Padmé could hardly believe her babies had turned six last month. She stood up. "She just hit her head. She'll probably have a concussion, but she'll be fine."

Luke stood up and chewed on his bottom lip. "Are you gonna take her to a doctor?"

Padmé sighed and stared down at her daughter's bleeding forehead. The blood had dripped onto Leia's dress and now stained Padmé's azure gown as well. "I wish I could," she murmured. "But it's too dangerous. If someone should trace her medical file... We're better off treating her back in the apartment."

"Mom, wait."

Padmé glanced back at him. "Yes, Luke?"

"I think there might be something I can do."

Padmé shook her head and repressed a shiver. "I don't think that's a good idea, Luke—"

"Just let me try," Luke pleaded. "Please?" His eyes widened. For a moment, he looked no different than a blue-eyed little boy that Padmé had met on Tatooine long ago. Three lifetimes ago.

"We'll treat her back at the apartment." Padmé kissed her daughter's soft cheek. "And the sooner we get there, the sooner Leia will be healed."

"But you'll let me try, won't you, Mom?" Luke asked as Padmé led him out of the park. "I can help her, I know I can. Probably faster than bacta, too."

He probably could. Chilled, Padmé stepped onto the crowded streets of the cobalt city. She found comfort in the anonymity. She shifted Leia onto her hips and drew a veil over her and Leia's faces as she weaved her way through the throng of beings. Luke ran to catch up to her and repeated his question.

"I'm not sure I should." Padmé turned a corner, ignoring the blue-clad people as much as they ignored her. On Soris Enta, people were not inclined to social interaction—one of the many reasons Padmé had moved her.

"I'm not gonna hurt her. Really."

Luke sounded so much like that sweet-faced little boy on Tatooine that Padmé stopped and smoothed back his hair. She saw only innocence in Luke's eyes, but that was all she had seen on Anakin's face at first, too. Padmé lifted her hand and shifted Leia's weight. "I know you wouldn't hurt her," she whispered. "But if you do what I think you're going to do, someone might see you." She began walking again.

"But it's not something you can see," Luke insisted. "I mean, you can see what happens, but you sorta have to be there. And it'll only be us three there, won't it?"

"It's not that kind of seeing, Luke. Not from what I can tell. But I'm not sure I can explain it, since I barely understand it. I wish your father—"

Padmé paused and wondered which father she meant. Luke stared up at her, and Leia grew heavy in her arms. Padmé drew in a deep breath, then continued to hurry down the street. The sun beat down on her neck, and the blue buildings grew taller. Blue had a religious significance on Soris Enta, and it seemed to be everywhere, from the buildings, to the adult's clothing, to the genetically engineered grass.

She almost missed the apartment building in the urban monotone, but when she saw it, she ran up the steps, her footsteps pounding on the hollow durasteel. Luke's footsteps became her background accompaniment. She hurried down the hall and punched in the door code. Once she ushered Luke inside, she took Leia to the room the twins shared—they cried when parted—and laid Leia on her bed. Perfectly made, of course, but that was Leia's way. Prim, proper, ladylike, and as fierce as her father.

Padmé's eyes stung. "I'm going to go get the bacta." She squatted in front of Luke and grabbed his shoulders. "Don't try anything, Luke. Please." When Luke nodded, Padme rushed to the 'fresher.

The bacta gel lay neatly in the medkit. Padmé plucked it out, remembering when Luke had bruised his arm two weeks ago. She still didn't understand what had happened, but Leia had grabbed her own arm, as if in pain, then reached out to him. They had both closed their eyes, and then the bruise had faded away, as if it never happened. It frightened her to think of how that happened, of how they did that.

They grow more powerful when they're together, Obi-Wan Kenobi had told her. They needed to learn to control their powers, he had said. But they were hers and she would not let him turn them into Anakin, she had responded. That had hurt him. She knew it had, and she knew it would when she had said it. She was no more perfect than Obi-Wan.

Padmé headed back to the twins' bedroom. Luke stood over his sister, his eyes closed, his expression just as it had appeared when he had bruised, so intent, so focused—so like his father. He had not listened to her, but then she wondered why she had expected him to. She tapped her foot and waited, not willing to risk the possibility that something worse might happen if she interrupted. When Luke pulled back and opened his eyes, he paled as soon as he saw Padmé.

"How is she?" Padmé asked, forcing her anger away. It would do no good right now. She sat in the chair by Leia's bed and applied some of the bacta gel to Leia's wound. It no longer bled, and seemed no more than a scratch.

"Getting better," Luke replied with a slight tremble. "I think she'll be fine in a couple of hours."

Padmé stroked her daughter's hair, brushing away a strand from her mouth—her father's mouth. Her children tormented her with his likenesses. "I distinctly remember telling you not to do that," she said without looking at her son.

"But she was hurting." Luke whined just like his father had. "This is better."

"Bacta works," Padmé said, keeping her tone guarded. "And it's safer." She sighed. "We're going to have to move again."

"Again? Why? No one saw me, I promise! I looked!"

Padmé finally turned to face him. "You might not have seen them, but they still could have seen _you_, and we can't take the chance. You shouldn't use these abilities you and Leia have, Luke. They can be traced."

"Don't know how." Luke scuffed his booted toes across the floor. "Do we really have to move just 'cause I helped heal Leia?"

Padmé nodded and closed her eyes. She felt old, somehow, far older than thirty-four. "I'll start making the arrangements. You start packing for you and your sister."

"I'm sorry, Mom." Luke hung his head. "I just don't like it when Leia's hurt."

Padmé smiled. The amount of love Luke and Leia had for each other amazed her. Sometimes she wished she had known love like that—true, pure, undemanding love that accepted reality and knew regret. "I know, honey." She cupped Luke's cheek in her hand for a moment then standing up. "I understand. I don't like it either. But it's because I don't want you or Leia to be hurt that we're moving again. Now start packing."

She headed out of the room, regretting that she would have to ask for Obi-Wan Kenobi's help once again.

...

"Daddy!" Leia squealed, breaking free from her mother's grasp to run towards Obi-Wan. Luke ran right behind her, leaving Padmé alone to walk down the ramp. She gathered her navy blue skirts and picked up her pace.

"Hello, princess," Obi-Wan said, picking Leia up in his arms. His brow furrowed as he traced her forehead scar with a finger. "Your mother told me you had a nasty fall."

"But it's okay!" Luke said, tugging Obi-Wan's brown cloak. "We fixed her!"

"So you did." Obi-Wan kissed Leia's beaming face, then set her down. He ran his fingers through Luke's blond hair. It was getting long again. "You look so much like your father," he whispered.

Padmé finally looked at Obi-Wan's face. He had shaved his beard off and dyed his hair black, and somehow managed to look younger than ever. She wished he looked as old, as worn out, and as tired as she felt.

"You mean I look like you, Dad?" Luke asked, grinning. He wrapped his slender arms around Obi-Wan's waist. "I'm so happy to see you again. Why did you go away?"

Obi-Wan glanced over at Padmé. She looked away. "I'm terribly sorry, son. I had urgent business that needed attending. Come along now. I bought you some treats." He ushered the twins through the small ship hangar and out into the misty streets of Everne. Padmé followed at a distance, a hovercart filled with their luggage beside her.

Obi-Wan led them through the fog to a speeder. He helped each twin into the back, then pointed to two neatly wrapped packages. The children squealed and opened the presents simultaneously. Luke simply ripped his packaging off, while Leia neatly picked off the adhesive and slid her gift out.

"Oh," Leia said, looking at the datapad she pulled out with barely disguised disappointment. "Thank you."

Luke did not bother to hide his disappointment. "What's this for?"

Obi-Wan's brow crinkled. "I was able to find annals of ancient Coruscant history—from before it turned into an ecumenopolis. I used to find that sort of thing fascinating when I was your age."

"What sort of kid cares about an ekkee-menee-ollee-ah-poe-liss—" Luke began, until Leia elbowed him.

"Thank you, Daddy. We love them," she said, smiling. She was a wonderful liar.

Padmé loaded the luggage into the speeder's storage trunk. She gave Obi-Wan a sharp look. His expression seem neutral, but for furrow of his brow. His eyes seemed very blue as he watched Luke and Leia. Before their birth, Padmé had only ever seen his eyes turn blue around Qui-Gon or Anakin.

Obi-Wan glanced at her and moved to help with the luggage, but she grabbed the last two cases and elbowed past him. She placed them in the trunk and snapped the lid shut. "Children like toys. At least normal children do," she said, quietly enough that the twins would not hear.

Obi-Wan spread his hands. "I've never bought presents before—" he began, but Padmé turned on her heel and headed to the passenger seat. She did not want to hear his protests or his excuses. Not now.

Obi-Wan said nothing as he slid into the front seat. Luke and Leia sat close together, whispering. Music tinkled out of Leia's datapad—apparently Leia had already managed to hack into the HoloNet. Padmé smiled a little. While Luke was the mechanic, Leia was the computer technician. Luke could build a droid, and Leia could program it. Combined, they fully encompassed Anakin's gift with machinery.

Padmé remained silent as Obi-Wan navigated the speeder through the misty streets. He drove safely and carefully, his hands gripping the steering wheel in the recommended positions. Nothing like how Anakin had ever driven. Obi-Wan never took chances, never tried to change his reality. He accepted things the way they were and followed the rules. Padmé hated him a little for that sometimes.

"Bail already arranged for new identification," Obi-Wan said after a long silence. "We just have to wait for the ship to arrive to take us to Dantooine. It's sparsely populated, and if the twins spike their powers through the Force again, I doubt anyone will notice. We'll be safe."

"We?" Padmé faced Obi-Wan and crossed her arms. His shoulders seemed corded with tension.

Obi-Wan glanced at her without turning his face. "I thought it would be safer for all of us to be there, considering the twins'—"

"I explicitly told you to leave because I don't want my children trained in the Force. And now you think you can just come back and train them, and I won't argue with you? I don't care what you or Yoda think, but they are _my_ children. Even when the Republic was alive, you Jedi had to cave to the parents' wishes. And I do not wish my children to be like—like—"

"Me?"

Padmé turned away, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. She covered her mouth and stared at the passing buildings. The mist obscured the buildings' details, making them seem like nothing but dark shapes against the twilight.

"I won't train them without your permission, Padmé. I swear it. But they need be taught control, or the Emperor or Vader will find them. Their powers cannot be left unchecked."

Padmé opened her mouth to speak, but Luke poked his head between the front seats. He smiled up at Padmé and Obi-Wan. "What are you two talking about?"

"Nothing, darling." Padmé stroked his hair. "Go back to playing with your sister."

"She won't let me listen to my favorite song."

"Leia, let him listen to his favorite song."

"But, Mother, I—"

"No 'buts,' Leia. Do as I say."

Tight-lipped, Obi-Wan drove the speeder to a small hotel and led Padmé and the twins inside. Up close, the building was as gray and non-descript as it had appeared when obscured by the mist. As they rode the lift to their rooms, Luke and Leia bickered over songs and whose turn it was to play with Leia's HoloNet-rigged datapad until Padmé took it away from both of them. A bellbot carried their luggage in the center of their suite, then left them alone.

"Children, why don't you go change for dinner?" Padmé said. Obi-Wan pulled food out from a cooling unit and set the table, his shoulders slumped.

"It's not vegetables, is it?" Luke asked, his expression anxious as Obi-Wan placed breaded strips of toskiri onto the plates.

"Of course not," Obi-Wan lied.

Apparently relieved, Luke and Leia carried their things to one of the bedrooms. Padmé crossed her arms and turned her full attention on Obi-Wan. He stared back for a moment, then slipped off his brown cloak. He wore a nondescript beige suit beneath it, similar to his Jedi robes. Obi-Wan was far too stubborn about his dress—about everything.

"So, I move to Jilia IV, and you move to Jilia V?" she asked, tapping her foot. "I move to Soris Enta, and you move to its moon?"

"Just because you told me to leave you alone doesn't mean I'm going to stop looking out for you, Padmé. If Sidious or Vader found you, all hope would be lost."

Padmé walked over to the window and stared down at the fog-veiled city spread out before her. "Obi-Wan, you may think all hope would be lost, but it wouldn't. One day, when they're ready, Anakin will find them, but I will not fear for them then. I know there's still good in Anakin."

"Anakin is dead." Obi-Wan's sorrow was audible. "And Darth Vader must die, too."

"Then why didn't you kill him when you had the chance?" Padmé asked, whirling around to face him.

Obi-Wan stared down at the gray carpet. "Because I'm not the Jedi I wish I was."

"You mean you're human. You felt pity, love, compassion, a moment's hesitance at killing a man you raised from a boy?"

Obi-Wan met her gaze. His eyes seemed very blue at that moment.

"It's all right to be human." Padmé took a step towards him, almost seeing Anakin for just a moment, so hurt, so vulnerable, so full of pain. She held her hand out, ready to stroke Obi-Wan's cheek, to comfort him, just once—

Obi-Wan took a step back. "Is that what you told Anakin before he fell to the dark side? That it's okay to be human?"

Padmé dropped her hand. "So you blame me?"

"Sometimes. The rest of the time I blame myself." Obi-Wan crossed his arms. He had always been a good friend to Padmé, understanding, calm, neutral, but ever since he had fought Anakin on Mustafar, he had seemed so preoccupied with his own thoughts. "_You_ asked me to pretend to be the twins' father, remember? I agreed, because I wanted a chance to make up for all the wrong I had done Anakin. I can see how I failed him now, and I won't repeat those mistakes."

"And yet you can't see the good still left in him?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. "You gave me a second chance, Padmé. Please don't take it away from me again. I want to help you. I want to help your children."

This time, Padmé did stroke Obi-Wan's cheek. He opened his eyes and studied her, his eyes a murky blue-gray. She wondered if a woman had ever touched him before. Anakin had insisted that the Jedi had not been celibate when she asked, and perhaps they had not been, yet she could not see Obi-Wan any other way. He had spent the first four years of the twins' life pretending to be her husband, but never once had he acted as anything but a friend to her. Padmé could not say whether she had wanted him to or not. She did not like to dwell on the thought.

"Will you let me help you?" Obi-Wan asked, the pleading quality in his voice unmistakable.

"Yes. But I will not let you train them. You may teach them control, but you may not train them as Jedi. Not now."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and nodded.

"When I tell them the truth, then you can train them," Padmé said. "We can't be liars forever, Obi-Wan. They'll have to know eventually."

"Know what?" Luke asked as he walked up to the dinner table. He climbed into a seat and started eating.

Leia took the seat beside him. "Who's a liar, Mother?"

Padmé dropped her hand and stared at her children. She licked her lips, desperately grasping at answers. How much had Luke and Leia overheard?

Obi-Wan sat down with the children. He smiled at them, his entire face lighting up, granting him a beauty that went deeper than appearance. Padmé's heart ached. Would Anakin have ever smiled at his children like that? "Everyone's a liar sometime," Obi-Wan said. "We both thought we should tell you the truth—"

Padmé sucked in her breath, eyes widening. Surely Obi-Wan would not—not now?

"—that you're actually eating vegetables." Obi-Wan's eyes twinkled as he pointed at the breaded toskiri. "Breaded and fried in a special sauce to fool little children into eating healthy."

Luke dropped the toskiri on his plate and stared at it in horror. "But it tasted good."

Leia giggled and munched on hers. "If it tastes good, I don't care."

"On the plus side, if you eat all your toskiri, there's nili cakes."

"Are they real nili cakes, or are they vegetables in disguise?" Luke asked. He started eating the toskiri again, his expression justifiably suspicious.

"That's something I'll have to tell you when you're older. Amongst other things." Obi-Wan smiled as Padmé took a seat beside him. To her surprise, she smiled back. She had missed her old friend, though he reminded her of Anakin all the more.

Padmé had once loved Anakin so much that she had thought she would die without him. That she still drew breath, that she somehow found the strength to see her children smile and laugh and bleed and argue, still surprised her. She could not credit herself for her strength—it came from her children.

"Where are we going to live now?" Luke asked.

"Dantooine," Padmé answered. She tasted some of her own toskiri—it really did not taste like a vegetable at all.

"Will we have to move from Dantooine? I promise not to fall off any more trees," Leia said.

Luke's toskiri dangled from his fingers. "And will you stay with us this time, Daddy? I promise to even eat the vegetables that taste like vegetables."

"We'll be safe on Dantooine. We can live there for a long time—together, like a family." Padmé studied Obi-Wan's face. She wondered if he really understood family. Sometimes, it seemed as if he had, and other times he seemed more alien to her than any non-human ever had.

Obi-Wan's eyes turned blue as he held Padmé's gaze. "As a family."

Padmé smiled back and prayed that Obi-Wan did not lie to her.

...

Dantooine was mild enough that Padmé had acclimated well to it. Though she could have visited the nearby lake any time she wanted, Padmé preferred to sit on her porch and watch the lavender savannah ripple in the wind. The long grass smelled like the lotuses that had grown in the garden she and Anakin had married in all those lifetimes ago. The lotus was a sign of purity and love to the Naboo, and their scent gave Padmé a renewed sense of hope for the future. It was a piece of home in this strange farming estate that Bail had found for them.

Padmé felt like a queen again, but a queen without a queendom. Her servants were droids, and the only people she ever saw were her children and Obi-Wan, except when she took the speeder to the small trading post to the southeast. If not for the smell of the lotus blossoms on the wind, Padmé would have grown tired of the white permacrete walls of her new home.

The sound of laughter drew her outside. Obi-Wan sat on a tree stump near the iriaz enclosure. The green creatures lowed behind their plastisteel as she approached. The children sat at Obi-Wan's feet, giggling as he touched their foreheads. An iriaz calf lay curled up by them, its head nestled in Luke's lap. Its scales glittered beneath the high non sun, and its horns naught but buds on the crown of its oblong head.

Padmé stood to the side and crossed her arms. She tapped her foot until Obi-Wan drew away from the twins and looked at her. He betrayed no guilt in his expression, but she saw it lurking in his eyes. They were green today, like Naboo's grass.

"Children, why don't you go take that calf back to its mother? Tend the herd for me."

Luke and Leia's brows furrowed, their expressions making them seem identical twins for a moment. They exchanged a glance then stood up. Luke gathered the calf into his arms. "Yes, Mother," they said in unison, then walked off to the enclosure. Leia glanced back at Padmé with undisguised suspicion.

"I was not teaching them any particular Jedi technique," Obi-Wan said. He sounded nearly as petulant as the children did before bedtime and did not meet her gaze. "You said I could teach them how to focus."

"Yes."

"They can talk to each other through the Force, you know. Until I began to meditate with Master Qui-Gon's spirit, I had never heard of such a power. I still cannot hear my old Master's voice yet, but they can communicate through thoughts—without training."

Fear made Padmé shiver, though the summer day was quite warm. "They're just like him."

"No." Obi-Wan folded his hands on his lap. "They're better than him."

That stung. A part of Padmé still could not bear to hear any criticism of Anakin. At times, she could not help blaming Obi-Wan for being so critical, for never expressing his love for Anakin when Anakin needed it most. Padmé found comfort in blaming Obi-Wan instead of Anakin, and she wondered if he ever found comfort in blaming her. She was no less complicit in failing Anakin.

"They're better than all of us," Padmé finally said.

"Without a doubt."

Padmé narrowed her eyes. "Be sure that you're not teaching them the Jedi way, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan did not answer for a long moment. "What is so wrong with the Jedi way?"

"It destroyed my husband. It destroyed you, too, I think. It even destroyed the Jedi Order."

"So you think the Jedi deserved to be slaughtered like iriaz trapped in an enclosure?"

Padmé looked away, swallowing a pit of guilt. It went down sharp. "I did not say that. The Jedi did not deserve to die. But no one in the Republic was innocent. Not you, not I, not the Jedi. We're all to blame. All of us."

"I'll be sure, should Darth Vader ever visit Naboo and slaughter your entire family, to remind you of how the entire Republic, including your family, was to blame. I'm sure it will be a great comfort to you."

Padmé snapped her gaze back onto Obi-Wan's face. She took a long moment to fight off the anger that his sarcasm induced, though she knew she deserved it, at least in part. She took a few deep breaths and considered this man she let play father to her children. Obi-Wan slept in her bed at night now, but never once did he turn to her with desire on his face. He did not act as other men would act if they shared her bed, pretended to be her husband, acted as fathers to her children. She never tried to touch Obi-Wan, either, for she knew she simply wanted Obi-Wan to play Anakin's role in all things, and she knew that was not fair to any of them. But she wondered about his feelings, his desires, and she found herself trying to coax emotion from him. Only when she broached the subject of Anakin or the Jedi did Obi-Wan ever react the way she wanted him to. When it came to being human, Obi-Wan was the perfect Jedi. When it came to being a Jedi, Obi-Wan was almost human.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said, finally breaking eye contact with her. "That was unfair of me." He watched the children play with the iriaz. She wondered if they would cry when it came time to slaughter them.

"I was being unfair to begin with," Padmé said, shrugging. "The Jedi were your family. I'm glad that it still hurts you that they're gone. It should hurt."

Obi-Wan did not speak for a long time. The wind fluttered the lavender grass, bringing with it the scent of lotuses, and brith cried as they sailed through the sky. "Whether I train them or not, they will have to face their destiny at some point. Do you not want them prepared?"

"Yes, they will have to face their destiny. They will also have to learn who their real father is. They will have to deal with what that means. And they will have to face him. But that does not mean they have to kill him."

"Padmé, there is no other way."

"Why can't you believe there's good still in him? You knew him better than I ever did. You loved him every bit as much as I did, maybe more. Why can you not accept that Darth Vader is Anakin Skywalker?"

Obi-Wan stared up at the clear blue sky. He did not answer for a long time. "Because Jedi kill Sith Lords. That is what we have always done."

Padmé did not believe Obi-Wan—his answer seemed too simple, too pat, and if she were to guess, Obi-Wan found comfort in pretending Anakin, the man he had broken the Jedi Code for, was dead. "Maybe that's why the Sith keep coming back," she said. "Because we all descend into a cycle of violence. All of us. The Republic, the Jedi, the Sith, the Empire, the Rebel Alliance… we can't win that way."

"I know no other way."

"Then let my children teach you one." Padmé snatched Obi-Wan's lightsaber off his belt and marched towards the iriaz enclosure. Obi-Wan followed without protest. "Luke! Leia! Come here!"

Luke and Leia walked up to her. Luke still carried the iriaz calf. Padmé walked inside the enclosure and lit Obi-Wan's lightsaber. It felt deceptively light, and only a faint vibration reminded her of its power. The herd dashed to the other side of the enclosure, wailing in distress at the sight of the weapon. She studied the piercing blue light, then looked at the iriaz calf.

"Set the calf down, Luke."

Luke cradled the beast in his arms. The little creature trembled. Padmé hardened her heart. She could not let pity sway her. Otherwise Obi-Wan would never listen. No one would ever listen.

"Mommy, please, let me keep this one, just this one."

"Set the calf down!" Padmé commanded.

Tears slid down Luke's cheeks as he set the calf down. Leia took his hand. Both children stared at Padmé with fear in their eyes. She wavered, her palm sweating around Obi-Wan's lightsaber.

"Padmé, what are you doing?" Obi-Wan asked, stepping inside the enclosure. "This has gone far enough. Give me back my weapon."

"It has not gone far enough. You haven't learned anything." Padmé swung the lightsaber at the calf. The blow was clumsy, artless, and she lost her grip. Without the pressure of her thumb, the lightsaber fell to the grass, inert. But the blade had done its work. The calf howled in pain and collapsed, its side bearing a large burnt gash.

Luke burst into tears, and Leia held him tight, tears sliding down her own cheeks. "Why, Mommy, why did you do that?" she whispered.

"This is the Jedi way," Padmé said, pointing at the calf. "This is the Republic's way, for the Jedi were nothing but the tool of the Republic. And the Republic was the tool of the Sith. This is their way, Obi-Wan. Your way. Look at it."

Obi-Wan only looked at her. He summoned his lightsaber back to his hand and hooked it to his belt without looking away. "That was unnecessary, Padmé. And melodramatic."

"No." Padmé turned to her children and took them in her arms. "No."

Luke and Leia relented and cried into her shoulder. The calf continued to mewl, its legs working feebly where it lay. It would die soon if not attended.

"Do what you did before, Luke. Leia. Heal your little friend. Save the calf," Padmé whispered, pulling back to look at her children's faces. Anakin stared back at her with tears in his eyes, split in two. She blinked, and only Luke and Leia stood before her. "Go on," she urged.

Luke and Leia did not need to be told again. They ran to the small iriaz's side and held their hands over its wound. They closed their eyes, their expressions mirrored in each other, full of intensity, power, focus.

Padmé turned to watch Obi-Wan. He stared at the children with his mouth open, his eyes wide. What she could not understand or sense, she knew he could. He could _feel_ her children's power, just as Anakin had once _felt_ her love. As the calf stopped mewling in pain, Obi-Wan's mouth worked open and close. He took a step back and fell to the ground. His limbs trembled

Luke and Leia sat back. Sweat stained their green clothing. The calf lay between them, sleeping now, the rise and fall of its chest strong. "Take the calf inside and treat it with the bacta gel," Padmé called. "We don't want it getting an infection."

Luke lifted the calf into his arms and cradled it. "Don't do that again, Mom."

"I won't. That one we can keep. It can be breeding stock and can stay in the house until it finishes healing."

Luke and Leia smiled, then scampered towards the house with their new pet. They would eventually forgive Padmé for hurting the calf. It was in their nature.

Padmé turned back to Obi-Wan, who still sat amidst the tall lavender grass, his mouth hanging open. She crouched beside him. "No Jedi could have done that."

Obi-Wan shook his head.

"I believe in Anakin. I know there's good in him. It's what kept me alive when I wanted to die. My children are everything that is good about my husband. And they will bring him back to me one day. To both of us. We just have to wait for him."

Obi-Wan stared at her for a long moment. Padmé watched his face until the tears started flow. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered, "Do you believe me now?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, then slid his arms around her. It was the first time that he had ever really touched her. "Yes," he whispered back.

Padmé smiled and breathed in the scent of lotus blossoms.

_Ante._


End file.
